A Pile Of Bones
by Agatha-Naomi
Summary: Booth and Bones in an established relationship. Drabble and one-shot collection. Mostly fluff.
1. Tripod

AN: Enjoy!

"He had a very good motive. He was a dedicated volunteer at the animal shelter and Dobson was abusive to his horses. I don't understand why you trust him. His alibi hasn't even been checked yet." Bones scolded, walking beside Booth as they looked around the shelter. They had just talked to their subject, a volunteer who had once come to blows with their latest victim over his horse's condition.

"I just know. My gut's never wrong." Booth declared with pride.

"Unless you consider that time you decided to move on with Hannah because your gut told you that I didn't love you." Bones pointed out calmly. Booth laughed because he knew she wasn't mad about that anymore, just using it as reference.

"I'm glad my gut was wrong then." Booth chuckled, swatting her bottom playfully. She smacked him lightly, but grinned happily at him in return.

"There are so many animals here." She murmured.

"It's an animal shelter, babe. Why so surprised?" Booth chided fondly. She pinched his arm and giggled. They had only been official for a few months, and he had already learned how to make her giggle. He had learned quite a bit about her, her tendency to wake up at the slightest noise, her preference for kettle corn over buttered popcorn. One particular afternoon she had been typing at her laptop, not paying him any mind, so he had done what any normal man would have done. He had pinched her sides. Seeley Booth had never thought that a woman like Bones would squeak, but she did. She had threatened to abstain from him, she had promised to break his fingers, but without fail he could never resist the urge to push her buttons.

A playful kitten swatted at them through the cage. Several people were trying to get its attention, cooing at its friendly antics.

Booth saw Bones clench her jaw before continuing through the line of cages.

"Not a cat person, Bones?' Booth laughed.

"I am." Bones scowled.

"Then why'd you glare at fluffy over there?" Booth asked, frowning.

"I didn't."

"Yeah you did."

"I just don't like how people only want to adopt animals that are young and playful. I'm sure that the animals here that are older and shyer are much harder to adopt. They deserve homes too." Bones seethed. Booth felt a twinge in his chest.

"Was it like that in the foster system?" He asked her gently.

"People are good, and many did want older kids, but sometimes it seemed like every couple wanted a baby. I tried at first to be friendly and sweet when they came by, but I got so sick of it." Bones sighed. "I was angry and bitter and needy, and that didn't help convince people to take me in"

"Let's go Bones." Booth called.

"Where? What are we doing?" She frowned when she saw him talking to one of the workers.

"Of all the cats here, which one has been here the longest?" Booth demanded.

"Um, Tripod I guess." The woman stuttered, obviously confused by the question. She led them to a cage that contained a blue-eyed and short haired Siamese. The tag on the cage indicated that the animal was three years old, spayed, and had all her vaccinations. They way she tottered around the cage indicated that the animal only had three legs. One ear was tattered and half her tail was gone.

"What the hell happened to you?" Booth asked the cat curiously. Tripod chattered in a conversational way and rubbed against the side of her cage in an awkward way.

"See her Bones? She's no kitten and she's been through hell, but that's her charm. And she's worth anyone's time." Booth informed her quietly. Bones smiled at him softly.

"How much is the adoption fee?"

AN: R/R please!:]


	2. Food Poisoning

A Pile Of Bones

AN: A big thanks to all who reviewed! I'd love to be one of those amazing authors who replies to every review, but I'm one of those lazy kinds who can barely pump out a drabble. Anyways, I love all the feedback, and you are all amazing!:p Enjoy!

"How the hell are you not sick?" Booth demanded.

"I've traveled more than you have." Bones pointed out. "I've eaten a wider variety of food and have been exposed to more germs. I have a better immune system."

"What have you eaten that I haven't? I've been to Japan, I've survived on Army rations!"

"Japan is an established country, and Army Rations are carefully regulated. Third world countries, like the ones I go to digs in have poor water supplies and un-regulated food supplies. Food poisoning is caused by fecal contaminated food, and that's easy to get in countries that don't have strict guidelines for restaurants. I've been to more foreign countries and eaten more exotic food. That's why I didn't get sick."

"Exotic foods? Like what?" Booth asked, despite his nausea. Curiosity was a dangerous thing.

"In Cambodia, bat's blood is considered a delicacy." She replied evenly.

"Bats blood?" Booth grimaced. Paling he dashed to the bathroom, wishing he hadn't have asked. They had gone to dinner yesterday and something evil had been lurking in his meal. Food poisoning sucked. Bones wasn't even a little affected, even though she had eaten off his plate.

That restaurant was on his shit list. Permanently. Now here he was. He has been tortured, blown up and broken, but this was something he couldn't endure with dignity.

"How long will I feel like this?" He asked desperately, wiping his mouth.

"Until all the harmful bacteria is out of your system. Vomiting will help." Bones supplied.

Booth groaned, "That's one cure I could do without." He rested his heavy head on her chest. Screw being macho, he didn't feel good.

"So dramatic." She murmured, supporting his weight. He was by no means a small man, and add in his weak and tired state and he was close to crushing her. Still she held onto him and smiled. He began to snore lightly and she smirked. Being sick had really wiped him out.

She had slept with men and felt sick at the cruel ways of certain men, but never has she cradled a sick man. Booth stirred and peered up at her.

"Why are we sitting on the floor?"

"You were so tired after vomiting that you fell asleep with your face between by breasts."

"That doesn't sound very manly."

"Nope. C'mon you need a real bed. Up." She dragged him to the bed and plopped him down.

"Sorry about that." Booth grumbled.

"It's okay that you're sick."

"I'm being such a baby about it." He whined.

"Yes."

"Hey!" Booth cried.

"What? I was just agreeing with you!" She laughed indignantly. He smiled and rested against her. They sat in silence for a minute or two.

"Since you already think I'm being a baby, would you mind rubbing my tummy?"

"Only if you return the favor the next time I'm ill."

"Deal." Booth nodded. Brennan moved her cool hand over him gently, making him sigh in relief. Suddenly she stopped, covered her mouth and darted into the bathroom.

Her immune system wasn't so perfect after all. She had eaten the same food, it had just taken longer to set in. In any case, it was an interesting weekend. When she had told Booth she would live with him, she had never suspected they would race each other to the toilet, and fight over who should rub whose stomach.

What a funny love this was.


	3. Girl Talk

A Pile Of Bones

AN: Who else wants to punch Booth in the nuts after tonight's episode?

The alcohol was bitter in her mouth and stung her throat, but the sting behind her eyes was worse. She was by all means a resonible woman, and despite whatever Booth thought, a good judge of character.

So when she sees a pretty, intelligent woman with a respectful job, she should not be angry. Booth had been all over Hannah in the diner. He had never kissed Cam in front of her. He was rubbing it in. And she hated him for it. Hated that she hated him. What happened to drinks after a case?

Booth had declared his love to her, and then moved on within months. How can he spend the entirety of their partnership trying to fix every broken piece of her heart, proudly claim that he could love her forever, and then waltz off to some bimbo?

Clark wasn't stupid, and she had had no right to speak to him the way she had. Booth had taken a two hour lunch, and she knew he was off with Hannah. To consider them in an intimate situation made her feel like punching a wall. Or crying. She really couldn't decide.

She had imagined them together while she was away. She had told him that. And now it didn't matter to him? Signaling for her third glass of comfort, she swallowed all thoughts of reason and called Angela. She needed someone to listen without making her feel stupid.

"Hey Brenn."

"I hate Hannah." Cursing herself mentally, she wished she had said hello to her friend first.

"For the record, I think you're way prettier." Angela said honestly, and Bones laughed weakly.

"I told Booth that I had considered being with him while he was away. He didn't say anything. He told me he loved me, and when I showed a sign of caring about him, he didn't seem to have any response."

"But he did. He's going to mull it over all night. Trust me on this one. Do you know what I think is interesting about Hannah? She's pretty and smart and she has a respectable job. She's a lot like you. Booth still loves you. He's looking for women that are like you. But Hannah can't identify bodies. She probably has religious beliefs and a wonderful family. She's not as quirky as you, and all your little oddities are what won him over." Angela paused and let her think.

"He kisses her in front of me." Bones added.

"He's trying to make you jealous." Angela snorted.

"He's succeeding. I just, I want to go to whatever high class restaurant he's trying to charm her in and just, I don't know."

"Rip out handfuls of blonde hair and mount him on the table?"

"Something like that. Currently I'm at the Founding Fathers. After case drinks are a thing of the past." Bones swallowed another mouthful of booze, despite knowing she shouldn't.

"Call him. Tell him that you love him, that you're furious at him for sleeping with Hannah, and that he broke your heart. And if he gets pissy about it, tell him that I will personally make his life hell. Then hang up and let him call you all night. Do not pick up no matter how many times he calls. In the morning he will be begging." Angela instructed.

"Isn't that a little harsh?" Bones murmured.

"Yeah, but these pregnancy hormones are making me a bit grumpy. I say you do it anyways. You're going to damage you're liver if you don't take some sort of action."

"Angela. He deserves to be happy."

"He's not in love with Hannah, that's why he's flaunting her. He's trying to prove to himself that he doesn't love you anymore."

"If it really is what you think I should do, I'll call him."

"Atta girl. I'm going to go punish Hodgin's now. He was drooling all over her too."

"Are you planning to hit him?" Brennan asked cautiously.

"No, I'm going to parade around the house naked, and tell him that we're not doing it until he asks nicely." Angela trilled happily, "Give Booth hell, M'kay hon? And don't drown your self in two much liquor, lord knows hangovers are bad for weekdays."

"Thanks Angela."

"Anytime."

AN: I love the way Angela and Brennan interact. They're so sisterly.


	4. Earthworms and Socks

A Pile Of Bones

AN: Hello all, and thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter! This update is inspiried by all the rain we've been having.

"You should have worn better socks Booth."

"They're my lucky frog socks. Good things happen when I wear them."

"Oh yes. I do recall you wearing those the first time we had sex." Bones remarked casually. Booth rolled his eyes, having finally gotten used to her openness about that particular subject.

"Yeah, and I wish you would have let me keep them on. They're lucky!" Booth pointed emphatically at his feet.

"Well, that's unexpected. Typically people undress completely before engaging in sexual activity. What is it with you and socks?"

"Lucky socks, mean I have good days." Booth winced as more cold water soaked his toes. His "lucky" socks had a hole in them and the chill rain water was seeping in. Thus why Bones was nagging him about proper footwear.

"While it may seem silly, keeping your feet dry is extremely important, Booth. You need to take better care of yourself!"

"Look it's not like I'm gonna get gangrene from strolling around with damp feet."

"That's accurate. Many soldiers got infections from improper footwear and constant walking during the Vietnam Era. An evening in inproper footwear could hardly be enough to cause that."

"What are you a textbook? I'm walking in a bit of rainwater, it's not like I'm walking through a rice paddy field. And why are you so worried? Worst case scenario, my feet get cold." Booth winced as a little more cold water seeped through his boots into his toes.

"Fine. I respect your decision to wear impractical socks. Freeze your toes off. You are an adult after all. I just don't know why you like such oddly patterned socks anyways."

"I just like to. It cheers me up." Booth shrugged and continued strolling. The rain had slowed to a sultry drizzle that smelled like earth and warmth. Bones laughed suddenly.

"I bet in patterns like those, you have to find women's sizes!"

"Hey! They make striped socks for men!"

"Not ones like yours I'm afraid." She snorted.

"I admit nothing." Booth chuckled.

"Eww!"

"What?" Booth demanded kindly.

"Nothing." Bones murmured sternly, a blush giving her away.

"You looking at that worm over there? That happens when it rains." Booth laughed as they continued walking and she grimaced openly at a rather long earthworm crawling in the puddles.

"I know that. Rain fills up the worms' burrow and they try to escape. I must admit, I just don' t like how they move."

"Seriously? You're afraid of a little worm?" Booth laughed in amazement. "I'm seen you touch brains, broken bones, bugs, slime…"

"I am well aware that worms are harmless creatures, being both blind and spineless. I always acknowledge that there excrement is good for the earth."

"But?" Booth prompted in glee.

"I already said it. I just don't like them."

"So I'm crazy for loving socks, and a forensic anthropologist afraid of a worm is normal?"

"I'm not afraid of it. Hey don't pick it up!"

"Here, just pet it. Since you aren't afraid of it."

"I will most certainly be able to do that. But first you must admit that some of the more colorful socks you own are truly in women's sizes."

"Okay, yes. Some times I see striped socks that I like and buy them, even if they were made for women. Nothing wrong with that."

"Thank you Booth. And for the record, I will not hold that worm."

"You promised." Booth warned.

"No." Bones shook her head.

"But he's just a little earthworm!" Booth chided, now trying to force it into her hand.

"No! I don't wish to hold it!"

"Hold the worm Bones."

"No."

"Then admit it makes you nervous." Booth dangled it a bit closer.

"Why would a simple creature that that make me nervous?"

They were both very intelligent people, both holding respectable jobs and having mature natures. But no one watching Booth chase her with a wriggling slug, while she ran away, would ever believe so.

AN: H'mm maybe a bit OCC? Oh well, I like it. Plus she was afraid of snakes, so who knows?


End file.
